


Choking on Flowers

by sugaplumvisions, timberlydrake_wayne



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Mutual Pining, Trans Male Character, Trans Persona 5 Protagonist, Trans Sakamoto Ryuji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21576085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugaplumvisions/pseuds/sugaplumvisions, https://archiveofourown.org/users/timberlydrake_wayne/pseuds/timberlydrake_wayne
Summary: When Akira opens a new flower shop, he never expected to find himself smitten with the boy next door. When a new shop opens next to Ryuji's tattoo parlor, he never expected to fall in love. But a series of misunderstandings and two cases of hanahaki threaten their newfound happiness.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Pegoryu - Relationship, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

Ryuji finishes cleaning his equipment after a long day of tattooing.

“Good job everybody,” he says, grinning at his staff. “Ann, I saw that industrial you did and it’s a thing of beauty. Shiho, that watercolor piece was incredible. Is it going in your portfolio?”

Shiho grins. “I’m thinking I might put it in. Thanks, boss!”

“Please stop calling me that,” Ryuji says. “It makes me sound about fifty.”

“You got it, boss,” Ann says, and she and Shiho giggle.

“I will fire you both, see if I don’t!” Ryuji says.

“You wouldn’t fire your best piercer,” Ann says.

“And your best realistic artist,” Shiho says.

Ryuji could technically pull off a portrait if he really wanted to, but he wasn’t a fan, and it would never look as good as one of Shiho’s. Shiho thrives on realism and watercolor, something else he’s not great at. And he sure as hell isn’t certified to pierce, much less be an expert at it like Ann.

He needs them. Not to mention that the girls are his friends. So he just sticks out his tongue at the two of them.

“Oh, real mature,” Ann says.

“Get out of here,” Ryuji says. “Your shift’s over anyway.”

“Maybe I wanted to hang out with my boss,” Ann says.

“Go hang out with Shiho,” Ryuji says. “I’m exhausted and my back hurts and today I had to tattoo this dude’s junk and I’m completely over it.”

“Oh my god,” Ann says, and collapses into laughter. “You could’ve just turned him down.”

“Yeah, but you know I’ve got the double rates for dick tattoos and he was willing to actually pay them.”

“What did he get?” Shiho asks.

“A dragon,” Ryuji says.

“Oh, real original,” Ann says.

“Yeah, if I had a dick I’d get a way better tattoo on it,” Ryuji says.

“Not from me!” Shiho protests.

“I wonder if you can tattoo a packer,” Ryuji says, voice trailing off as he plans a terrible experiment.

“Please do not,” Ann says. “Can we just. Quit it with the dicks?”

#####

Akira finishes setting down the last of his boxes in the refrigerator.

“And that’s that,” he says.

Haru smiles at him. “I can’t believe we have our own shop,” she says.

“Well we’ve worked hard for this, and our social media is on point.” Akira smiles at Mishima, who blushes and smiles back.

“We can unpack more tomorrow,” Akira says. “For now, look what I’ve stashed in the fridge.” He pulls out a pack of only slightly melted popsicles, handing one to each of his employees.

Once they’re all occupied with the ice pops, Akira’s email alert dings. “Okay, so, we’re already starting to get orders in,” he says, scrolling through his phone. “Tomorrow we finish unpacking and get as much set up as possible so we can get to work!” Haru and Mishima cheer.

“Wait,” he says. “Where’s Morgana?” They look around for a few seconds, but all of the potential cat hiding spots are empty of Akira’s feline. He sighs and shakes his head. “Shoot,” he says. “He must have gotten out while we were moving things in. Haru, could you stay here in case he comes back?”

“Of course,” Haru says. She continues to look for Morgana indoors while Akira and Mishima step outside to look for him.

“Morgana!” Akira calls.

“Is this your cat?” a voice says. Akira looks up to see a blond man holding up Morgana, who looks cranky at being held by a stranger. “He wandered into my shop; must’ve gotten in when my piercer headed out.”

“Morgana!” Akira repeats, but this time in a tone of surprise and gratitude. He scoops up Morgana into his arms. “I don’t know how to thank you enough.” Morgana meows his protest at the manhandling, but Akira ignores him. He’s only really just gotten a good look at the guy and honestly? He’s _incredibly attractive_.

“You could go to dinner with me,” the man says. He winks. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, but you can just call me Ryuji.”

Akira blushes at the man’s--Ryuji’s--boldness, but he’s decidedly not opposed to it. “I’m Akira,” Akira says.

“Nice to meet you, Akira.” Ryuji grins, and it’s like suddenly the clouds have parted and the sun streams down. “So you’re from the new flower place?”

“I am! We’re hopefully going to start filling orders tomorrow.” Akira smiles softly, and Morgana shifts in his grip and caterwauls. Akira shifts his grip to let Morgana up onto his shoulder.

“I’m from Skull and Ink,” Ryuji says, gesturing to the tattoo sleeves on his arms. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Akira smiles, stepping a little closer and leaning to get a better look. “I think dinner would be nice, by the way,” he says as he glances over the tattoos. He looks up through his lashes to make eye contact with Ryuji.

Ryuji’s face flames red. “I gotta tidy some things up at the shop, but will you be around at sixish?”

Akira stands up and gives Ryuji some of his personal space back, nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure I can keep busy till then,” he says with a smile.

“It was great to meet you,” Ryuji says. “And your cat!” He reaches out to give Morgana a few head scratches. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

#####

“Ann, I’m so fucked,” Ryuji says on the phone  
“What’s going on? Do I need to come back?” Ann asks.

“I got a hot date with the guy from the flower shop next door,” Ryuji says, flopping back in the tattooing chair.

“You mean Leblanc Florists?” Ann says.

“What’s he talking about?” Shiho says in the background.

“He’s got a date with the guy from Leblanc Florists and he’s freaking out,” Ann says.

“I ain’t freaking out!’ Ryuji protests. “I’m just...he’s so pretty? And his cat is cute. I found his cat and suddenly we’ve got a date? I don’t know what came over me. I’m just… I’m really bi, Ann.”

“Just be yourself,” Ann advises.

“Yeah, be yourself, Ryuji,” Shiho says, a little farther from the phone.

“That is literally the worst idea,” Ryuji protests. “Myself is _terrible._ I wanna be all suave and smooth with him, not a loudmouthed jackass who can’t take a hint.”

“You’re going to be fine, Ryuji,” Ann said. “He agreed to go out with a loudmouthed jackass, didn’t he?”

“Hey!” Ryuji protests. “Only I’m allowed to insult myself!”

“Then you shouldn’t do it in front of me,” Ann says.

Ryuji is seized with a sudden urge to roll his eyes, even though Ann won’t be able to see him.

“You’re going to do fine,” Ann says. “Seriously.”

Shiho chips in. “Just relax and try not to overthink it.”

“Implying he thinks,” Ann says.

“Okay,” Ryuji says. “I’m hanging up the phone now.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up, pacing around the tattoo parlor.

“You got this, Sakamoto,” Ryuji mutters to himself. “Just autoclave some shit and then go woo potentially the cutest guy you’ve ever seen.”

Six comes around quickly despite Ryuji’s anxiety, and he straightens his shirt, tries to wash the ink off his hands as best he can, and heads over to Leblanc Florists. He goes to knock, but the door pushes open easily, a small bell jingling to announce his arrival.

Akira walks out of the back room, still wearing his (adorable) apron. He smiles. “Ryuji! I was just unpacking some things. We’ve got another truck tomorrow so I figured I should get what I can done now.”

“That sounds smart,” Ryuji says, swallowing hard.

“So where are we headed for dinner?” Akira asks. He unties his apron and hangs it on a hook behind the counter.

“There’s a really great ramen place just down the street from here,” Ryuji says. He grins at Akira. “Want to try it out?”

Akira smiles back. “That sounds great!” 

He steps out from behind the counter and Ryuji opens the flower shop door for him, being careful not to let out Morgana, who was more interested in rubbing against Ryuji’s ankles and purring.

“Well shit, dude, I think your cat’s claimed me,” Ryuji says as Akira walks up to him. He carefully untangles Morgana from his legs before Akira scoops him up and puts him in his bag. “Wow, you can really keep him in your bag like that?” Ryuji asks as Akira locks up his shop.

“He’s a good boy,” Akira says. “He doesn’t make a lot of trouble.”

Ryuji laughs. “Except when he decides to go exploring?”

“Hey, that wasn’t trouble,” Akira protests. He leans in and brushes up against Ruyji’s shoulder as they walk. “It got me to meet you.”

“I’ll have to get him some fish or something, then,” Ryuji says. He grins and bumps Akira’s shoulder right back.

#####

Akira is going to die of pansexual panic. Heh. Pan-ic.

Ryuji is so very attractive, and Akira is so very screwed. He’s cheerful and genuine and somehow interested in spending time with him? There had to be a catch somewhere.

He wishes he could talk to Haru or Mishima or Makoto and get some kind of reassurance, but his only friend with him is Morgana, and he’s not saying much of anything.

They get to the ramen restaurant after a few minutes of walking, of Akira agonizing over whether or not to grab Ryuji’s hand. He’ll do it on the way back, he decides, if all goes well.

“So how long have you been tattooing?” Akira asks once they’ve sat down and ordered.

“Since I was 18,” Ryuji said. “I’ve always been into drawing, but when I got out of high school, I managed to score an apprenticeship. There was a lot of inking pigskin and a lot of oranges.” 

Akira huffs out half a laugh. “Oranges?”

“They’re surprisingly good to practice on, especially if you can’t afford pigskin or synthetic skin. My ma got me a gun for my birthday and after I gave myself a real scratcher, I switched to fruit until my apprenticeship went on a little longer.”

“Oh, I’ve got to see this tattoo,” Akira says.

“Maybe another time. I can’t exactly show it in public,” Ryuji says, and fires him a wink.

Akira can feel himself turning bright red. “I--I didn’t mean--”

Ryuji laughs. “Relax, man. I’m kidding. It’s just on my ankle.” He rolls up his pants to reveal a small, faded skull that, despite its poor quality, still has remarkably steady lines.

“It’s kind of cute,” Akira says. 

“ _You’re_ kind of cute,” Ryuji says, and Akira’s cheeks aren’t showing any signs of going back to not-red anytime soon.

“Thank you,” Akira says, and then dares, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Ryuji grins and blushes. “Even with my terrible old skull tattoo?”

“You obviously love it,” Akira says. “You did name your shop Skull and Ink after all.”

“Maybe so.” Ryuji smiles and shrugs.

Just then, their food comes. Once they’ve settled in and started eating, Ryuji asks Akira “So how long have you been into flowers?”

Akira shrugs. “Basically forever. I had a summer job working in a flower shop in high school, and I never really looked back? I had a friend growing up who works with me now--Haru’s her name--and she always has encouraged me to go ahead and make a career out of it. My dad’s great about it too. That’s actually where I got the name--Leblanc after his coffee shop.”

“You’re close with your dad, then?”

“Well, adopted,” Akira says. “My biological parents weren’t so hot on my being queer.”

Is Ryuji...tearing up?

“I’m so sorry, ‘Kira,” Ryuji says. “That’s awful that they treated you like that.”

“It’s okay now,” Akira says, and shrugs. It’s not actually okay, but he doesn’t want to cry all over Ryuji. Maybe in the future, and he smacks himself internally for already allowing himself to imagine a future with the bright and brash boy in front of him. “I got a much better dad out of it. And a weird but incredibly cool little sister.”

“I’m still sorry. I know how bad that shit hurts,” Ryuji says. My ma’s cool with it, but my dad… He ditched us when I was five. Wasn’t all because my ma was dead set on letting me transition, but I’m always gonna wonder how much of it _was.”_

Ryuji shifts nervously in his seat, staring at his ramen bowl. Akira can tell that he’s waiting to see how he’ll react to his story.

Akira gives him a bit of a half-smile. “Sometimes biological parents are worse,” he says. “I’m glad your mom was in your corner though.”

Ryuji smiles. “Yeah, me too.” He hesitates, face resolving into something more somber. “So you don’t, ya know, mind?” he says, almost defiantly.

“Would be a bit hypocritical of me,” Akira says, half-smile morphing into something more bashful.

Ryuji’s face lights up. “You too? _Dude,_ for real?Awesome! _”_ He holds up his hand for a high-five. “Wait, can I say dude? What’re your pronouns I don’t want to, like, assume?”

“Dude is good,” Akira says. “He/him is just fine, no worries.”

“Well this is officially the farthest I’ve got with a dude after telling him,” Ryuji says. He grins and blushes. “I don’t...actually know what comes next.”

“We eat dinner,” Akira says, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Ryuji says. “Right. Dinner.” His ankle brushes up against Akira’s under the table, and he jerks back, face getting even redder. “Sorry to get all up in your personal space.”

“You’re all right,” Akira says. He emboldens himself for a moment of absolute courage. “I don’t mind you in my personal space.”

#####

Ryuji almost chokes on his noodles. This guy was too good to be true, and he was flirting right back at him? He’d been worried that he’d been too forward by asking him to dinner, much less by coming out and then playing a game of accidental footsie, but there Akira was, taking everything Ryuji threw at him and coming back flirting. It was too good to be true.

“I don’t mind you in my personal space either,” Ryuji says. He smiles softly at Akira. “I really like you, ‘Kira.”

Akira returns his smile. “It’s weird, right? We literally just met a few hours ago but it feels like we’ve known each other forever.” He focuses his attention back on his almost-empty bowl, hair blocking his face. “I like you, too, Ryuji.”

Ryuji ducks his head to hide the goofy grin that adorns his face. He can’t believe he’s finding himself falling so fast for the florist next door, but he doesn’t have any complaints.

Akira’s phone dings. “Ah, sorry,” he says. “That's the tone for my business email. Do you mind?”

“No, go ahead,” Ryuji says, a little too quickly. He can’t say he’s not disappointed, but he runs a business. He knows how difficult it can be, especially in the early days. “Someone important?”

Akira nods absently, eyes scanning the message. “I was lucky enough to partner up with a funeral home. This is the director reaching out to meet in person tomorrow to iron out the details of the arrangement.” He grimaces. “That means I have to put together the paperwork tonight.”

“Need to head out then?” Ryuji says, trying valiantly to hide his disappointment. “I’m almost done with my ramen, anyway.”

Akira sighs and frowns. “That might be for the best, unfortunately.”

And Ryuji had been doing so well too.

“Here,” Akira says, “Give me your phone. I’m putting in my number.” Once he hands it back he says, “Remember, I know where you work. If you don’t text me I’ll come find you.” He grins.

“Believe me, I’m going to text you,” Ryuji says, heart lightened somewhat by Akira’s apparent wish to stay in contact with him. “I ain’t letting someone that cute go easy.”

“Aww,” Akira says. “You think I’m cute?”

“I asked you out, didn’t I?” Ryuji says, gently kicking him under the table.

“I’ll return the gesture soon,” Akira says earnestly.

#####

Akira yawns, balancing his coffee cup on top of his folder to free up a hand to unlock the front door. The sun is barely up enough to let light filter through the glass, but he wants to get everything in order before the appointment and maybe get more of the shop set up. He also has a little project he wants to set aside time for, if he gets the chance.

It only takes about twenty minutes to get the paperwork ready, since he did most of the work already the night before, so he gets to work unpacking boxes and arranging the store as if it were its own bouquet, moving things around to look just so. He also starts prepping some bereavement arrangements and vases for his appointment later that day, but partway through something else catches his eye. He pulls out the vase he’d accidentally chipped during travel, a delicate little thing emblazoned with a lotus flower, and puts it aside, filling it with an assortment of red and yellow flowers, proteas and yellow alstroemeria and red snapdragons, with a bit of lemon leaf to fill it out. He thinks maybe Ryuji might like it.

He’s startled out of his arrangement trance by a fist knocking on the door. The truck of flowers has arrived, and hours early to boot. He had scheduled Makoto and Haru to receive and unpack the shipment, but right now he was the only person in the shop. He’ll have to talk with the driver; they’re lucky he’s even here. He sends Makoto a quick text to see if she’d be up for coming in a little early, rolls up his sleeves, and goes to work.

He’s been lifting for about fifteen minutes when Ryuji shows up.

“Hey man, could you use some help with that?” Ryuji says as he struggles to lift a box. Then suddenly he’s there, arms steadying the box on the opposite side, hands brushing against Akira’s own.

Akira tries not to pant with the effort. “Thanks,” he says, breathless. “Some of these vases are heavy.” He freezes. “Wait. What’re you doing here so early?”

“One of my artists likes to work real early,” Ryuji says. “I wanted to talk to him about drawing up some new flash for a promotion, but he’s running late today. Probably got caught up in drawing again and lost track of time.”

“Your artist’s running late, my truck’s running early,” Akira says. “I hate to say I’m glad it happened, but at least it means I get to see you.”

Ryuji ducks his head to hide a grin, but Akira can see the tips of his ears flame.

“Can you follow me to the back with this?” Akira asks. “It’s awkward and I do not want to drop these.”

“Of course!” Ryuji says. “Just tell me if I’m about to back into something?”

“I think the only thing in your way is the counter and the door to the room, so you should be good.”

Ryuji helps him lever the box carefully to the floor amongst the others, where they’ll wait to get unpacked until Makoto and Haru arrive. Akira stretches to work the ache out of his back and the lotus vase catches his eye.

“Oh!” he says, heading over to it and gesturing Ryuji over. “I… made you something?”

Ryuji’s face immediately lights up. “For real?”

Akira grins. “Yeah, I can’t sell this vase since I chipped it even though it’s one of my favorites, so I figured, let’s put something together as a nice gesture? I don’t know if you’re a flower person, but I tried to put together something a little less traditional and a little more exciting. It seemed to fit you. Or something.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ryuji says quietly, brushing careful fingers over the rim of the vase. “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” Akira says, beaming. “When the flowers wilt, let me know, okay? I’ll refill the vase, so don’t throw it out. Or if you don’t want it, I’ll take it back.”

“No, no, I’m gonna keep it forever,” Ryuji says. “No take backs!”

Akira chuckles. “Fair enough.” He moves a little closer, brushing his own fingers over the lotus. “This is one of my favorite flowers, actually,” he says. “Seems cliche, maybe, but I like to think that they represent me pretty well. Maybe,” here he looks up at Ryuji, “Maybe I’ll get a tattoo, one day.”

Ryuji lets out a long, shaky exhale. “Well, if you want realistic or something more watercolor, Shiho’s your gal. Yusuke works more in the Japanese style, if you’re into that. And then, well, there’s me. I work mainly in blackwork and the Sailor Jerry style--that’s traditional American tattoos. I saw the style and knew I had to master it.”

“Thanks for the recommendation,” Akira says, smiling softly.

They’re interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and a sharp voice calling. “Akira?”

“In the back!” he calls back, giving Ryuji a little space back as Makoto enters the room. “Makoto!” He hugs her enthusiastically. “Thanks for coming in. Ryuji just helped me bring in the latest box. Ryuji, this is Makoto, delivery girl, resident muscle, and smartest person I know. Makoto, Ryuji works next door and came to my rescue when he saw me struggling with the shipment.”

“Thank you for that, Ryuji,” Makoto says, offering a small smile. “Akira, where do you want the rest of them?”

Akira gestures expansively to the floor. “Somewhere around there?”

Makoto sighs. “I’ll come up with an organizational system.”

“That’s why I love you!” Akira says. “You make the best order out of my chaos.” His phone suddenly starts to beep aggressively. “Shoot,” he says. “I need to finish those memorial flowers to take to my meeting with Akechi. Makoto?”

Ryuji takes a step towards the door. “I’ll just let you two get to work on that, unless you need more help with the truck?”

“Thank you, Ryuji,” Makoto says, not unkindly. “But I think I can handle it from here.”

“Thank you Ryuji!” Akira calls a little absently from where he’s moved to his arrangements.

“Good to see ya, ‘Kira,” Ryuji says. “Nice to meet you, Makoto!”

Akira freezes, face red, as Ryuji leaves.

“‘’Kira’?” Makoto asks, a sly smile gracing her face.

“Makoto,” Akira whines, burying his face in his hands. “He’s cute, let me live.”

“Haru said something about a boy finding Morgana and you having a date? Ryuji, I presume?”

Akira nods. “He’s really nice? And cool. He’s a tattoo artist. And I might’ve made him an arrangement. Which I think he forgot!”

“Akira!” Makoto says. “You’re allowed to like him. He seems sweet. But first, those bereavement vases.”

#####

Ryuji sighs and slumps into the chair in the lobby.

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters. Akira was possibly even cuter when he was unloading boxes, sleeves rolled up and skin glistening. And he was so _nice_ to Ryuji, even when he was obviously in the way.

 _Shit._ He’d gotten too flustered when Makoto arrived and forgotten the arrangement, and after Akira had gone to all that trouble of making it for him. Akira was going to think he hated him. There he went again, fucking up everything that mattered to him. At least it puts him on an even keel again; good things don’t just _happen_ to Ryuji. Not without him ruining them.

He brushes aside the negative thoughts and pulls out his phone to text Yusuke.

“Where r u?” he asks.

Yusuke replies after a couple of minutes.” I got caught up in drawing, but I think you’ll love the new flash I worked out. I’ll be right there.”

He sighs, a bit annoyed, but he can’t really be mad at Yusuke so long as he gets his work done, and he always did get his work done.

“c u soon,” Ryuji texts back.

He’s interrupted in his typing by a cough, a dry, tickling thing that he muffles into his elbow. When he pulls his head back up, he notices a small white petal on his sleeve. He must have picked it up while he was in the florist’s. The petal reminds him of Akira, and he rubs it gently between his fingers and smiles. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji and Akira manage to go almost 4000 words without actually communicating. This is Idiot Plot at its finest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential emetophobia TW from this point onward in the fic, more details in the end notes.

Akira finishes up the last of the arrangements just before Akechi walks in promptly at the scheduled meeting time. He ducks out of the back room when he hears the ding of the bell on the door.

“Kurusu!” Akechi says, a wide smile on his face. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Akechi,” Akira says, smiling softly in return. “It’s been awhile. I was surprised to hear from you.”

Akechi gives a bit of a half-laugh. “Ah, I’m sorry about that,” he says, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I was dealing with a lot of family issues.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Akira says sincerely. Akechi shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with it, and I’m excited for this chance at a partnership.” The smile he gives Akira then is smaller, but bright, and Akira remembers what Akechi was like in school; eager to please, but ruthless in practice. It seems like he’s mellowed out since.

“Here, I’ve got a few arrangements for you to look at and take with you to display, and we can talk about what sort of packages you want to offer and the costs attached,” Akira says, leading the way to the back room.

As they enter, Akira greets Makoto and Haru and introduces both to Akechi before they head out to cover front of store and finish any stocking left out there, leaving the two alone.

Akira gestures to the three arrangements in their elegant vases. “This is what I’ve prepared for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” Akechi says. “You’re very talented.”

They discuss the nitty-gritty details of cost and profit, and Akechi finally stands up a little straighter and smiles.

“This has been delightful,” he says. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Thank _you,_ ” Akira says. “I hope this arrangement will be positive for the both of us.”

“I’m sure it will,” Akechi says.

“Here, let me help get the arrangements out to the car,” Akira offers. “Or I can ask Makoto and Haru to do it?”

"Thank you,” Akechi says. “They’re somehow larger than I expected. If they don’t mind helping it’ll save me several trips.” Akira asks Makoto and Haru to each carry an arrangement as Akechi leads the way to his vehicle to figure out how to fit them.

“I can get the last one,” Akechi says as he comes back inside, gesturing to the arrangement that Akira has moved up to the counter.

“If you’re sure?” Akira says. “There’s plenty of muscle around here.” Akechi shakes his head, so Makoto and Haru return to the back room.

“No, no, I can do it. Far be it from me to inconvenience any of you,” Akechi says. He picks up the last vase and considers it, keeping his eyes down when he says, “It has been nice to see you again.”

Akechi shifts the flowers to his left hand and holds out his right for a handshake. Akira takes it, but pulls him in for a hug instead, careful not to crush the arrangement. “It has been nice, and I’m glad you’re doing well,” Akira says, and pulls back, clapping a hand on Akechi’s shoulder.

#####

Ryuji takes the opportunity of a slow patch between clients to head over to Leblanc Florists to pick up his bouquet, and, if he’s being honest, see Akira again. As he’s about to walk in, through the glass door of the shop, he sees Akira with his arms around another, admittedly handsome, man.

He freezes, watching them embrace and then seeing Akira clap a familiar hand on the man’s shoulder. After a few moments, he walks into the shop on autopilot.

“Ryuji!” Akira says, smiling brightly. “Just a moment and I’ll be right with you?” He turns back to the handsome man. “We can’t go this long before catching up again. I hope that we’ll see a lot of each other.”

The man seems entirely too composed, smile a little too perfect. “It’s safe to assume we will.” He’s holding an absolutely enormous bouquet that Akira must have made, and it’s beautiful, all white flowers and little green sprigs. Not as pretty as Ryuiji’s bouquet, but he’s biased towards anything Akira made for him.

So...he isn’t the only guy Akira is seeing? Not the only one he’d made a bouquet for? And apparently far down the list enough that he got a little one, as opposed to the behemoth that this man was walking out with. Or did Akira just do this for everyone? Is this all some huge misunderstanding and he isn’t actually interested at all?

Of course he’s not. Ryuji was an idiot to think that Akira could be interested in someone like him.

Ryuji is seized with a sudden choking feeling, a need to cough that he swallows back down. It settles bitter and sickly in his stomach. He frowns as the man brushes past him brusquely on the way out.

“Ryuji!” Akira says again, the smile returning to his face. “You forgot your arrangement!”  
“Yeah, I know!” he says, plastering on a smile to match Akira’s. “I mean--that wasn’t supposed to come out so rude--I mean I came by for it!”

“Here, I’ll get it out of the fridge,” Akira says. He disappears momentarily and comes back clutching the bouquet.

“Thanks, man,” Ryuji says. “It’s gonna look great in my shop!”

“Speaking of your shop! Slow patch at work?” Akira asks. “Or lunchtime?”

“I don’t got any clients for another hour,” Ryuji says. “Shiho and Yusuke said they’d take any walk ins and call me if they couldn’t handle it.”

Akira looks towards the back of the store appraisingly.

“Makoto, Haru,” he calls in, pulling the door to the back room open. “If I take my lunch, will you--”

“Make out in the back room till a customer walks in? Absolutely,” the girl who’s presumably Haru says sweetly.

“What she _means_ to say is that we’ve got your back,” Makoto says as her face goes red.

Ryuji snorts.

“I think a couple’a my staff would be like that if they finally got their act together,” Ryuji says. “I’m looking forward to it because I love them, but also kinda dreading it because then I’ll have to walk in on my best girls kissing, and that will just be weird.”

Akira laughs, throwing his head back. “I love the way you phrased that. It is a _little_ weird,” he admits. “But at this point I’m used to it, and they never let it impact work so it’s not like I can complain.”

“Fair ‘nuff!” Ryuji says, reaching out for the vase. “I’ll just take the flowers and get going so I don’t cut in on your lunch.” He just wants to get out of there as quickly as possible so he can go process what he just saw.

“No, no, I’m taking it so you _can_ cut in!” Akira insists cheerfully, keeping hold of the arrangement. “I wanna deliver them personally, and it is definitely a thinly veiled excuse to see your shop.”

“Well then! Right next door,” he says, pointing that way with a sweeping gesture. There’s nothing he wants more, and less, than Akira in his tattoo parlor, and he doesn’t have the heart to say no to that face.

Ryuji holds the door open to Akira’s shop and then to his own.

“Well, this is it,” he says. “Skull and Ink. We’ve got a client in the back right now but usually don’t get walk-ins till later in the day. You’re lucky; everybody’s here. We can’t disturb Shiho; she’s busy with a client. Ann just finished up a piercing, and Yusuke’s just working on a design for a client later, so we can bug them no problem.” Ryuji stops to muffle a cough into his elbow.

“And who’s this?” Chihaya says, a small smile playing on her lips.

“And of course,” Ryuji says, “Our lovely receptionist, Chihaya.” He gestures to Akira. “This is Akira. He runs the flower shop next door.”

“Nice to meet you,” Akira says.

“Nice to meet you too!” She turns to Ryuji. “Is this the one that Ann told me ab\--”

Ryuji cuts her off. “Yes, but not in front of him!”

“Aww, you talk about me?” Akira says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Shut up,” Ryuji says, in an attempt at playfulness that falls flat. He kicks himself for it coming out so harsh, but he’s still upset that Akira didn’t tell him he was seeing anyone else. He keeps talking to cover. “Here, let’s go meet Ann before her next client gets here.”

They walk a few feet to a room that has pop music blasting and a table in the middle that looks like it’s from a doctor’s office. “Hey Ann?” Ryuji sticks his head in the door. “This is Akira! From the flower shop next door.”

Ann stands up from where she’s seated and shoves her phone in her pocket.

“Nice to meet you!” she says. “So,” she says, grinning at Ryuji. “This is the guy?”

“That’s enough, Ann!” Ryuji says. “Let’s go meet Yusuke; he won’t make fun of me.”

“No, no,” Akira says. “I want to hear this out. What did he say about me?”

“That you’re hot, sweet, and have a nice cat,” Ann says.

It’s all true. Unfortunately, now Ryuji has to add “entangled with another guy” to the list.

Akira grins. “My cat _is_ pretty nice,” he says.

“That’s an absolutely beautiful arrangement,” Ann says. “I might have to get in touch with you about doing a bouquet.”

“Oh, shit,” Ryuji says. “We shoulda set that down in the front.” He processes a little longer and then realizes. “Wait, you’re finally going after Shiho?”

“I don’t know,” Ann says. “What do I do if she says no?”

Ryuji laughs. “She’s not gonna say no.” He turns to Akira. “Those are the two I was talking about earlier.”

Akira hums in recognition and nods.

Ann pulls a latex glove out of the box on the wall and smacks him with it. “You’ve been gossiping about my poor, nonexistent love life?”

“First of all,” Ryuji says, “It wouldn’t be nonexistent if you’d put on your big girl pants and kiss her already.”

“But it’s scary!” Ann whines.

“Second, I’m not the only one gossiping about love lives. How did Chihaya know about ‘Kira, hm?”

The nickname just slips out. He’s trying so hard to keep Akira at arm’s length now, but there’s just something about him that makes him impossible to stay truly mad at, even if he might deserve it.  
Akira is trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter.

“‘Kira, huh?” Ann says. “That’s adorable.”

Ryuji blushes, and hates himself for it. “You know who else is adorable? You ‘n Shiho.”

“That is _enough._ Go pester Yusuke,” she says as she shoves Ryuji out the door. She grins, with a mischievous edge to it that makes Ryuji brace himself for her next words. “Nice to meet you, _‘Kira.”_

“I like her,” Akira says as the door closes behind them.

“She’s great,” Ryuji says. He knows his voice is coming out a bit flat, and tries to pitch it more normally. Maybe Akira didn’t deserve this. They’d never discussed being exclusive, never really discussed much of anything relationship-wise. It hurt, but maybe it wasn’t Akira’s fault. “Totally evil, but great.” Maybe the fault was his own, for assuming he was good enough to occupy someone as amazing as Akira on his own.

Akira laughs, not trying to hide it this time. “I’m glad you have good friends.”

“Here, let’s go meet the last of ‘em,” Ryuji says, gesturing towards the art studio. They walk through the door and Yusuke doesn’t react, continuing to sketch.

“How’s that flash coming?” Ryuji asks.

Yusuke jumps. He looks over to see Ryuji and Akira standing in the door, and stands.

“It’s coming along well,” he says. “Who is this?”

“This is Akira,” Ryuji says, “And if Ann told you anything about him, I’ll ask you to keep it to yourself.”

Yusuke holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know nothing!” he says. “It’s nice to meet you, Akira,” he says, sticking out a hand to shake.

“Great to meet you too,” Akira says, shaking his hand. “Do you mind if I look at some of your art?”

“You should!” Ryuji says, his hurt at Akira warring with his pride in Yusuke. “He’s absolutely incredible.”

Akira looks at Yusuke, who nods.

“I’ll show you some of the finished flash,” Yusuke says, gesturing Akira over to the desk. “Here, this is one of my favorite new pieces.” He pages through some of his art as Akira leans over his shoulder.

Akira looks absolutely rapt. “This is beautiful,” he says.

Ryuji grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Toldja he was talented!”

“Thank you,” Yusuke says, a small smile on his lips. “Your flowers are beautiful as well. You’re a very talented florist.”

Akira smiles, catching a piece of hair in his fingers. “Thank you for saying so.”

“Welp,” Ryuji says. “That’s everybody but Shiho. I’ll let you go enjoy your lunch now.”

“I _am_ enjoying it,” Akira says, checking his watch. “But I guess I’ve been gone long enough.” He gestures with the bouquet. “Where do you want me to set this?” he asks.

“We can put it on the front counter,” Ryuji says. “It’s got to be pretty sterile in the tattoo and piercing rooms, and barely anybody comes back to the art studio. Chihaya will enjoy the flowers, too.”

“Got it,” Akira says.

Ryuji gestures back towards the front and Akira follows behind him.

“You really have a neat place here,” Akira says as he sets the arrangement down on the front counter.

Ryuji blushes. He wants to stay mad at Akira, but it’s hard when he’s so _earnest._ No, it was his fault after all. Still, he’d have to figure out how to pull back emotionally. He can’t risk getting even as invested in Akira as he already is, if there is even a chance he’s just one option of many.

“It was good to see you,” Ryuji says. There we go. That’s nice and neutral.

“It was good to see you too,” Akira says. Before he leaves, he leans over to press a kiss to Ryuji’s cheek.

#####

Akira pushes open the door to Leblanc Florists, frowning, deep in thought. He clears his throat of the weird congestion that’s gathered and notices Makoto looking at him from her spot behind the counter. She eyes him, sharp as always, and waits for him to speak.

“Did…” he’s still processing, and the words leave him slowly. “Did Ryuji seem different? This afternoon versus this morning?” He wonders if maybe he overstepped, if Ryuji had left the bouquet on purpose and came back to get it out of social obligation. It feels like maybe Ryuji has taken a step back and Akira is afraid he pushed too far too fast.

Makoto looks thoughtful. “I don’t know that I really know him well enough to make a judgement. Though he did seem more…” She cocks her head, thinking of the right word. “Subdued.”

Akira hums. “Do you think the bouquet was too much?”

Makoto smiles at him, softly. “I think it was a very genuine gesture, and he seemed to really like it this morning.”

“Mako-chan, what do you want to order for lunch?” Haru calls as she comes in from the back room. Akira smiles, mood brightening with her presence. “Oh! Akira! You’re back!”

“You guys can go out for lunch,” he tells them, leaning a hip on the counter. He clears his throat again. “I’ll hold down the fort, so take as much time as you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” Haru asks. Makoto’s brow furrows.

Akira nods. “As the owner and business leader, I demand that you two have a nice lunch date!” he declares, and ushers them out with a wide grin. He moves back behind the counter, intending to maybe scan the paperwork from this morning into the computer, budget out some new vases to replace the ones that were broken, but his thoughts wander.

Did he overstep? Was inviting himself to Ryuji’s shop too much? He all but kicked Akira out there at the end. He thought maybe they were heading in a really positive direction. He would really like to date Ryuji. He _really likes_ Ryuji, even if they’ve only known each other for a couple of days. Maybe he’s moving too fast? He clears his throat a third time and wonders if he’s coming down with something.

The rest of the day passes pleasantly enough, between filing, unpacking, and a couple of customers coming in to order arrangements, but the nagging feeling that he did something to upset Ryuji doesn’t go away. He wonders if he should go apologize for whatever it was, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t help if he doesn’t know what he’s even apologizing for.  
He doesn’t doubt for a minute that it’s his fault. He’s still musing on it when he heads home, and sleep doesn’t come easy that night.

The next day, there’s no Ryuji: no texts, no calls, no pop-ins.

The second day, no Ryuji.

The third day, he’s on the verge of heading into Skull and Ink on his own, but his congestion has turned into a nagging cough, and he doesn’t want to expose Ryuji to anything. So instead he shoots him a text.

“How are you doing? Been a little while.”

“i’m ok. busy @ work; got that flash promotion going on! how r u man? good to hear from u.”

Akira smiles as he types his reply, pausing only to cough into the crook of his arm and ignoring Makoto’s pointed look. “Busy here too! Who knew so many people wanted flowers? But I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.”

“same 2 u!!! i coulda told u ppl love flowers. we sure tattoo enough of em.”

“Oh yeah, I still need to schedule a consult for mine. Let me know when you’re free again?”

“u sure u want me? u’ve seen yusuke’s work, n shiho’s amazing 2. ‘s a big decision who ur putting on ur skin 4 life.”

“If you don’t want to do it then yeah, your whole team is amazing. I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If it’s not your wheelhouse it’s not your wheelhouse!”

“not uncomfortable, can def do it!!! just want u 2 be sure. have i actually shown u my work?”

“Saw some samples on the walls when I was there the other day. You said you worked in an American style, so it was easy to pick yours out. It’s pretty cool.”

“if u like it i can do it! i can stay l8 2nite or 2morrow for the consult if u want. i’m pretty booked otherwise but anything 4 u. :)”

“Oh no I can’t tonight :( My dad and sister are picking me up for dinner. To celebrate my first week of owning my own business and not immediately running it into the ground.”

“ur 2 smart to run it into the ground. 2morrow then? or friday?”

“I’ll let you know? I’m excited”

“me 2. :) i’ll draw up some designs! u want a lotus, right?”

“Right! Color, too, and I’m not afraid of pink.”

“got it! c u soon! ;)”

Akira puts his phone away, smiling softly. Makoto aims a cheeky elbow at his ribs and he dodges it with a laugh, heading to the back room to ready his order for next week’s truck and make sure Akechi’s order is ready for pickup. A bout of coughing stops him in the doorway, but he waves Makoto off and beelines for a drink of water first. The coughing is getting worse, but he feels generally fine otherwise. He’s going to have to invest in cough drops, though, the next time he’s at the convenience store. His throat is starting to feel a little sore and raw and he swears it constantly feels like he’s got something caught.

He ducks into the walk-in to see what fillers they’ve got on hand, coughing a little more when the cold air hits his lungs. He hits some of the flowers as he reaches a hand out to steady himself on the shelf, and he sees a couple petals fall from the feverfew, but once the coughing passes he examines the flowers and they’re largely no worse for wear. Relieved that they’re not ruined, he resolves to sweep up the petals once he’s done with the order. He can get things clean while he waits on Akechi.

#####

Ryuji isn’t sure what to think of the text from Akira, and especially not of the request for a tattoo session. Getting a tattoo from a stranger is one thing, but getting a tattoo from someone you know has a certain intimacy to it. It’s something that will be on his skin for the rest of his life, something that every time he sees will remind him of Ryuji. Something dark and jealous inside him thrills that even if he can’t have Akira for real, he’ll be able to leave something with him that will never go away.

“What’re you smiling about?” Shiho asks as she walks by.

“It’s, um, well, I mean,” he stammers. “It’s Akira.”

“Akira, eh? Haven’t heard about him in a couple days,” Shiho says, pulling up a chair next to him. “Give me the scoop.”

“He wants a tattoo,” Ryuji says, deciding that his opinion on it is exclusively positive, maybe even downright blissful.

Shiho gives a sharp inhale. “From you? That’s awfully intimate,” she says.

“I know, I know! That’s what I was thinking, but he was the one to suggest it an’ everything!” Ryuji grins. “I dunno, I thought that maybe we were off but maybe we’re on again?”

“Why’d you think that?” Shiho asks.

Ryuji shrugs. “I saw him hugging another guy, an’ he gave him a bouquet that makes mine look dinky. Mine’s prettier, though,” he says, fiercely proud of Akira’s gift.

“Have you thought that maybe Akira has friends who order flowers?” Shiho asks gently.

“I...uh...yeah! I totally thought of that,” Ryuji lies.

Shiho laughs. “Relax a little, Ryuji. He obviously likes you if he wants you to ink him.”

“Dammit, Shiho, when you say it like that it just sounds dirty,” Ryuji says.

Shiho waggles her eyebrows before she’s consumed by giggles.

“This is workplace bullying,” Ryuji says, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“You love me,” Shiho says with a grin.

“Yeah, I do,” Ryuji admits reluctantly, gently elbowing her in the ribs.

The rest of the day is busy, with Ryuji tattooing straight through except for breaks. After the shop closes, he decides to stay to draft some lotus designs, but wants some fresh air first. He steps outside to breathe when he sees a man he recognizes, the man Akira was hugging, walk into Leblanc Florists.

Wait. Isn’t Akira supposed to be having dinner with his family? That’s supposed to be why he is busy. Could it be a lie? Is it really a date? What’s worse, did he lie to Ryuji about it?

Ryuji ducks back inside his shop just as a wave of pain washes through him. He feels like he’s choking, like he’s drowning. He doubles over with a hacking cough, feeling something fly from his mouth as he coughs onto the tiles of the floor. The coughing fit is long and painful, and he sinks to his knees as his lungs burn.

When he’s done coughing, he opens his eyes to see white and red petals scattered all over the floor. In the middle sits a perfect pink-white lotus.

Well, _shit._ **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are graphic descriptions of coughing up flowers, which may be rough for someone with emetophobia.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The misunderstandings and the hanahaki both escalate. The boys are really in it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for injury, emetophobia, and discussion of death (no one dies!). See end notes for more details.

Akira’s putting the final touches on an ordered spray when Makoto opens the door to the back.

“Akira, how’re you feeling?” she asks, face pinched.

Akira gives her a smile. “I’m feeling fine, honest!” he says, voice a little hoarse. “It’s just the cough, no congestion, no fever, no headache. It’ll pass soon.”

Makoto frowns and enters the room fully, letting the door shut behind her. “Well, you should take a break at least.”

“That I can do!” he says, backing away from his work table. He moves towards the break room, pulling his phone from him pocket to type a message to Ryuji.

“Hey, I’m free this afternoon after we close? Or tomorrow? We can schedule that consult?”

Ryuji takes a good two hours to text back. Akira wants to believe he’s with a client, but still worries. He’s in the middle of a coughing fit when Ryuji finally texts him.

“yeah i’m free 2nite.” he says, with none of his characteristic smiley faces. Akira wonders yet again if he’s done something to upset Ryuji. But surely just one text isn’t enough to tell. Maybe Ryuji was just having a rough day at work?

“I’m looking forward to it.” There. Vague enough to not make him more uncomfortable if necessary.

“i’ve got sum real cool designs ready.” He must be busy. Akira clears his throat, trying to avoid coughing outright again.

“I’m excited to see them!”

“Akira?” Haru calls, poking her head into the break room, the rest of her following with a tray. “I made you some hot honey lemon water for your throat.”

“You’re the best, Haru,” Akira says, pocketing his phone and standing to take the drink and Haru heads back out, smiling softly. He tries to stop worrying so much; he’ll be seeing Ryuji soon enough, and it’s much easier to read a person when they’re standing in front of you. Hopefully it’s all just a misunderstanding. He sips at the hot drink, appreciating the way it helps his throat feel less on fire.

He looks down to see little white petals on the ground.

“Guys?” he calls, sticking his head out of the door. The word comes out croaky and quiet, so he tries again. “Guys?”

“Yes?” Makoto and Haru say in unison.  
“Yeah?” Mishima says, a second later.

“Can we try to keep flowers out of the break room? I sweep enough in the front as it is,” Akira says.

“I didn’t bring any back there,” Haru says. Shortly after, Mishima and Makoto agree with her.

“Is it possible someone brought them in on their clothes?” Makoto asks.

“It’s more than a couple,” Akira says. “Be on the lookout for damaged… Just a second.” He goes back and looks at the petals on the ground, lifting one up to rub between his fingers. It’s warm, and slightly damp. It must have been out of the fridge for a while, though that didn’t explain the dampness. He pops his head back out of the back room. “Damaged daisies,” he says. “I’m not going to push for who brought them back there; just make sure we’re not putting out damaged stock, okay?”

The rest of the day passes slowly. Akira finds himself in front of a new arrangement, debating which sprig of gladiolus is better. He coughs again, leaning away from the flowers into his arm.

“Akira, are you sure you’re okay?” Haru asks.

“Maybe you should go to the doctor,” Makoto says. “You’ve had that cough for days.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” Akira says. “If it gets worse I’ll go in, okay?”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Makoto says. Next to her, Haru nods her agreement.

Akira’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see it’s a text from Ryuji. His excitement fades quickly, though.

“hey man, i’m sorry but i can’t do 2nite. i’m not feelin so hot.”

“I’m sorry to hear you’re sick! Hope you feel better soon. We’ll reschedule, don’t worry about it.”

“might be a hot second. really not doin well.”

Akira frowns, concern immediately flooding his gut. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? I make a pretty mean sick day curry. Maybe I could bring some medicine?”

“naah shiho n ann are lookin after me, but thx 4 asking.”

“You’re in good hands then. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“sorry 4 cancelling on short notice. :(“

“No don’t worry about it you can’t help you’re sick! Get better soon and then we can meet up.”

“c u then.”

The day ends, and Akira heads home to Morgana instead of spending the evening with Ryuji.

The next day, Akira checks his phone every time it pings, but no Ryuji.

The day after, still no message. Akira is a little worried. He sends a quick, “hey haven’t heard from you, hope you’re feeling a little better!”

The end of the third day has Akira concerned. Is Ryuji really feeling that poorly? Is he in the hospital? He resolves to visit the shop the next day.

That night, he can’t sleep through all the coughing. It feels like he’s choking, like something is blocking his breathing, and he wonders if _he’s_ actually getting sick, instead of just having a nagging cough. He decides to wear a mask to work the next day, just so he doesn’t spread it around.

Akira texts Mishima early that morning asking if he would mind coming in a bit early, because he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. So when Akira arrives at work later than usual, he’s just in time to see Ryuji stroll into the tattoo parlor, looking exhausted but, except for the face mask he’s wearing, relatively sprightly.

Akira ducks quickly into Leblanc Florists, mind racing. He checks his phone to see if he’s maybe missed a notification, but there’s no reply to his last message to Ryuji.

“Akira?” Mishima says, looking concerned. “You look awful.”

Akira opens his mouth to reply but ends up holding up a hand while he coughs and coughs and coughs, struggling to breathe through what feels like a blockage in his throat, feeling almost a fluttering down into his lungs. He has his free hand pressed against the mask so he feels when something bumps the material. It’s an almost instant relief as whatever it is tumbles out of his mouth, a freedom from the choking sensation that he’s become so familiar with over the past few days. He feels an urge to hide, knowing that Mishima would tell Makoto and Haru if he sees that he’s coughing up...something.

Mishima is hovering now, but Akira pushes past him with an apologetic look to get to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He leans against the sink and pulls the mask free, afraid of what he’ll find, and a few small heads of daisies tumble free, joined by what he thinks are sunflower petals.

Oh this is _much_ worse. Akira runs his hands through his hair, thinking. He knows why this is happening. He also knows Makoto will freak out and Haru will try to give him advice and Mishima will panic. So he just won’t tell them. He’ll hide the evidence—it’ll be easy, it’s a florist shop—and no one will be the wiser until he figures it out for himself.

He starts scooping the flowers and petals out of the sink into the toilet, dumping them out of his mask as well. He flushes, watches them sink and disappear, and runs the faucet cold to splash his face and get a quick drink to rinse his mouth.

He counts himself lucky that sunflowers and daisies aren’t poisonous. Though that doesn’t mean they taste good. Still, he thinks grimly, it means he won’t die of poison, only when the flowers finally collect enough to fill his lungs faster than he can cough them out. It would only take, he thinks, one or two full sunflowers.

He shouldn’t be so calm, facing his impending death, but he’s pretty sure he’s in shock. Hanahaki. What a beautiful-sounding word for something ultimately so ugly.

He takes a deep, careful breath. He’ll have to be careful around the others, choke it back as much as he can. They can’t know; he doesn’t want them to have to bear it. He thinks maybe Makoto is right and he should see a doctor, though this definitely wasn’t the scenario she was envisioning.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks up the nearest urgent care. It’s only half a mile away; he can walk there so long as he keeps the mask on and tries not to think of Ryuji. Even at that slight thought of him, he feels something prickle in the back of his throat. He’ll just have to think of something else.

It’s hard, thinking of anything but him, of the betrayal he feels, of wondering what he did wrong and how he’s supposed to fix it, especially now that actually going to talk to Ryuji would leave him doubled over, retching flowers on the floor of his tattoo parlor. Maybe he could send someone over to check on him. It might help, at least, to know he was okay. Akira bends over and coughs another cluster of daisies into the toilet. That’s right. No more thoughts of Ryuji.

He flushes the petals, cleans himself up again, and puts the mask back on. It was time to face the world, or at least Mishima.

When he leaves the bathroom, Mishima is hovering just outside. “I think Makoto is right,” he says. “You really should see a doctor.”

Akira nods. “If you can hold things down ‘till the girls come in, I think it might be time for urgent care.”

Mishima nods seriously. “Of course I can. Take care of yourself.”

Akira pulls out his phone and texts Makoto. “Finally going to the doctor. Will keep you updated.” He won’t, actually, keep her updated, but he’ll give her fake updates to soothe her mind. He imagines her face if she found out about the hanahaki, the lips thinned with worry and the furrowed brow. No, he can’t tell her. Much less Haru and Mishima; the knowledge would destroy them.

It’s a short walk to the doctor. He coughs a few more times, but only produces a few petals. They’re easy to hide behind the mask. In the waiting room, Ryuji crosses his mind, and the now-familiar flutter in his lungs warns him in time to run to the bathroom. It’s not as many flowers this time, just a few sunflower petals and a daisy. He has the presence of mind to tuck them in his pocket in case the doctor wants to see evidence of his hanahaki. He cleans himself up, cursing the ritual that’s quickly becoming all too familiar, and heads back to the waiting room.

“Kurusu?” the nurse calls after a moment, stepping out of the back.

Akira stands up to head towards her. “That’s me,” he says, and the nurse motions him back to a room. She takes his temperature and blood pressure, and tells him that the doctor will be in shortly.

Akira manages to keep from having any coughing fits before the doctor arrives, though he does have to clear his throat a few times. The doctor walks into the room brusquely, introduces herself, and asks Akira what brought him in today.

Akira pulls the petals out of his pocket. “I coughed these up,” he says. “I can’t stop coughing.” The doctor hums an acknowledgement, taking the petals into her gloved hand and examining them.

“Have you had a heartbreak or unrequited love recently?” the doctor asks.

Akira mulls the question over, not wanting to embarrass himself by immediately blurting out a yes. “I don’t know that I’d call it love, exactly?” Akira says. “It’s so new. But...he won’t talk to me anymore.” He jumps down off the examining table and barely makes it to the sink before he coughs out a cluster of petals and a few heads of daisies.

The doctor hums again, more seriously this time. “How long have you been coughing, and when did the petals start?”

Akira thinks back over the past few days. “It’s been something like a week,” he says. “I only really noticed the petals today but…” He trails off, trying to remember. “I think the first incident was a few days ago,” he says, thinking back to the petals he found in the breakroom, and the petals he’d found beneath the undamaged feverfew.

The doctor nods. “It sounds like you have an acute case. Unfortunately, for some people, hanahaki progresses much faster than for others, who can live with it for years. Acute cases are typically found in cases of high compatibility and a quick progression of intimacy, followed by romantic rejection.”

Akira winces and clears his throat.

She continues. “There’s two methods of dealing with hanahaki: palliative care and complete excision. With palliative care, we treat the symptoms, but eventually, the petals will build up too fast in your lungs despite our best efforts. There are medications to slow the flowers’ production, along with painkillers and throat coating agents to soothe the pain of constantly coughing up flowers.”

“What about cough suppressants?” Akira asks, not keen on continuing to hack up flowers for the rest of his life.

“You should never take cough suppressants with hanahaki,” the doctor said. “If you can’t cough, the flowers will build up in your lungs, and it could be fatal.”

It finally hits him, the gravity of this disease. He starts shaking as the doctor continues.

“There is, of course, the second option, which would take care of the hanahaki entirely.”

“What is it? I want it,” Akira says, voice trembling but insistent.

“The procedure has severe side effects. We would go in and cauterize part of the brain, effectively removing your ability to feel love. Without love, the hanahaki will not receive further signals telling it to produce flowers.”

“No,” Akira says firmly, immediately. “I’m not willing to go that far.”

The doctor nods. “Most people make that choice. I’ll write you prescriptions for palliative care: a flower suppressant, some painkillers, and something to coat your throat. I’ll also write you a referral to a hanahaki expert for your ongoing care.”

Akira nods. “Thank you,” he says.

“Do you have any further questions for me?” the doctor asks.

Akira shakes his head. “I think...I think that’s enough.” He clenches his hands into fists so tightly his fingers ache. He is going to die, he keeps thinking. He loves Ryuji, and Ryuji doesn’t love him back, and he is going to die for it.

“It was nice to meet you,” the doctor says, “Though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Akira nods, unclenching his right hand long enough to shake hands with her. The next few minutes pass in a blur punctuated by hot tears falling down his cheeks. His life is just beginning, and now this? He has friends, a family, a new business. He’d thought he had Ryuji. Now he has a disease he has to hide from his friends--oh god, his family. What is he going to tell them? He thinks of the stunned look on Sojiro’s face, of how Futaba would hide her face in their father’s side, pulling away bleary-eyed to ask him if he was okay.

He’s crying in earnest when the nurse comes in with his paperwork. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

Akira shakes his head. He rubs at his face and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says, words thick. “I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“Take your time,” she says softly. “This is a normal, common reaction.”

He gets to his feet, takes a few slow breaths, clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says. Later, when he’s home and alone, he’ll talk out loud to Morgana, and cry or yell or whatever he needs to. The others can cover the shop for the day.

#####

Canceling on Akira is painful, but what’s more painful is the roses he coughs up, stabbing into his windpipe and ripping at the corners of his mouth. When he coughs, blood blooms bright on the tissue.

Fuck. This is bad.

He’d been to the doctor for floral suppressants, going the day that he’d coughed up the first lotus. They’d told him to avoid thinking of or talking to Akira, but it wasn’t working. Akira was all he could think about. And canceling on him just made him feel worse, leaving him here, doubled over on the floor of the parlor, grabbing at the tissues he’d started stocking everywhere to wrap the flowers in and throw them away undetected.

He probably needed to see another doctor, considering at this point he was coughing up blood. But he didn’t want that, didn’t want to be shuttled into the hospital to die in sterile white, without ever even catching a glimpse of Akira again--another coughing fit, this one still brutal but blessedly free of thorns. There’s more blood on the tissue, and he wraps it tightly in three layers before throwing it away.

He can’t tattoo like this. He’d somehow made it through the day, but the mere thought of seeing Akira had caused a rush of lotuses right before he’d sent the text to cancel.

“I’m heading out!” he calls, voice hoarse with pain, to Chihaya, whose turn it was to do the last of the cleaning for the day.

“I hope you feel better soon,” she says. “I heard you coughing over the music. It sounded rough.”

“Thanks,” Ryuji says, thankful that he’s wearing a mask so that Chihaya can’t see the blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.. “I think… I might not come in for a few days.”

“Whatever it takes for you to get better! I’ll call your clients tomorrow,” she says. She walks over to him and lays a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Feel better soon, Ryuji.” She pulls him into a hug.

“I’ll do my best,” Ryuji says. He waves at her as he walks out the door.

When he gets home, the first thing he does is call his mother. He can’t tell her he has hanahaki. He doesn’t want her to worry on his account. It wasn’t fair to her for her to suffer just because he happened to catch feelings for a guy too far out of his league, but he still wants to hear her comforting voice.

“Ryu-chan? It’s so good to hear from you,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“Ain’t I allowed to want to call my ma?” Ryuji asks.

She laughs. “Of course you are,” she says. “But you never call me so soon after work.”

“I’m okay,” he says. “Everything’s fine.” His voice shakes as it comes out.

“Oh honey…” Her voice trails off. “You sound awful. Do you need me to come take care of you?”

“Ann and Shiho are taking care of me. It’s fine, I promise,” he says, repeating the lie he’d told Akira.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Ms. Sakamoto presses. “You sound like you’re about to cry.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m just sick and I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Sakamoto Ryuji, if you don’t tell me the truth, I am coming to see you tonight and I’ll figure it out myself.”

Ryuji doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the tears hitting his cheeks. He sniffles and wipes his eyes.

“Baby, are you crying?” she asks.

“I messed up, Ma,” he chokes out.

“What did you do? Sweetie, it’s okay. Do you need me to come over?”

“I fell for someone,” he says, choking back flowers and tears.

“Ryu-chan, you know I don’t care who you fall in love with,” his mother says.

“I know, I know. It’s not that. It’s just...he’s dating someone else. He led me on, and I still like him. Maybe love him, and his stupid smile, and the way he makes everything feel like it’s no big deal around him.” Ryuji’s holding back sobs in earnest now.

“Sweetie, if he can’t see how special you are…” She takes a breath, and Ryuji hears a bit of a sniffle in it. “You deserve someone who will choose you. I promise you, you’ll find someone else.”

“That’s the problem,” Ryuji says. “I can’t find anybody else.”

“I don’t understand.” Ryuji can hear her frowning over the phone.

He coughs. A rose petal floats gently down to the ground.

“Ma…” Ryuji swallows back the tickle in his throat and inhales deeply. “I have hanahaki.” He hears her gasp, but keeps going. “I’m on flower suppressants that are supposed to slow it down, but I can’t stop thinking ‘bout him and his stupid face and how _good_ I feel when I’m around him. It’s bad. There’s roses, and they _hurt._ ”

“Come home,” his mother says. “I’ll clean up your room. You don’t need to be alone right now.”

“I told you,” Ryuji says. “You don’t hafta worry. Ann and Shiho are watching over me.”

“They aren’t your mother,” she says. “And somehow I don’t think you’ve told them.”

“Why do you know me so good?” Ryuji asks.

“Maybe it’s because you’re my son? Come home, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“It is not! I’m gonna die!” Ryuji doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but it rips out of him in terror, not anger.

“Baby. Just come home, or I’m coming to get you,” Ms. Sakamoto says.

“Okay Ma. I’ll come home.” He sniffles, his tears slowing a little at the prospect of being taken care of.

“That’s my boy,” she says. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Tonight,” Ryuji confirms.

He spends three days at home, in his mother’s loving care, and manages to not think of Akira for long enough that his windpipe and lips have time to do some healing. He coughs up approximately a metric fuckton of lotuses, but the roses manage to stick to just petals.

On the third day, Akira texts him. Ryuji feels the choke of thorns coming up his throat, and deletes the text on impulse before he has time to read it.

“Baby, are you all right?” his mother asks, rushing into the room when she hears him gagging on the floor.

“Hurts,” Ryuji sobs.

“I really think it might be time for the hospital,” she says.

“No!” Ryuji says, too quickly and too loudly.

“But you’re bleeding,” she protests.

“Ma, please. I don’t want to die in the hospital.” Ryuji panics at the thought.

“You’re not going to die, Ryu-chan,” she says, offering him tissues. “I’ll be right back with some tea with honey for your throat, okay?”

“I’m going to die,” Ryuji says. “That’s what people do when they get hanahaki.”

“People can live for years with it,” she protests.

“Not with their windpipes getting ripped open by roses, they can’t,” Ryuji says. He tries to pick himself up from the floor and fails. It feels like he can’t get in a good breath.

“That’s why you should go to the hospital,” Ms. Sakamoto insists. “They must have stronger medication they can put you on.”

“I’ll go to the doctor,” Ryuji says. “But not to the hospital.”

“I’m going with you,” his mother says.

They head to urgent care, a different one than the one by Skull and Ink that he’d visited before, and sit in the waiting room, Ryuji choking back petals all the while. He leans his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Ryu-chan,” Ms. Sakamoto says. “I’m going to make sure they put you on the best medication they have.”

The nurse calls “Sakamoto?” before long, and they head back to see the doctor.

It’s a short visit, the doctor giving his condolences and inspecting Ryuji’s throat. He numbs his throat and puts a small mirror on the roof of his mouth to see down into his windpipe.

“It doesn’t look like there’s any serious damage,” he says. “I’ll put you on stronger suppressants, though keep in mind that these may inhibit your ability to feel emotion.”

“I don’t want that!” Ryuji protests.

“Unfortunately, in cases like this, there’s little that we can do other than prescribe these. Roses are a fairly common flower in hanahaki, and, unsurprisingly, potentially deadly. If the thorns puncture a lung--”

Ms. Sakamoto cuts him off. “Baby, you need to. It won’t take it away completely, right?” She looks to the doctor for confirmation.

“It will not; the only way to do that would be the full excision,” the doctor says.

“Which I’m not gettin’, so don’t even ask,” Ryuji insists.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” she says, ruffling his hair. “This is going to help, okay? And if it takes a bit of the hurt away, isn’t that good?”

Ryuji sniffles. “I don’t wanna stop lovin’ you, Ma,” he says, voice hoarse.

“You won’t,” she says. “Everything will just be a little quieter.”

Ryuji nods. “Okay. Gimme the pills.”

The doctor finishes up the exam and sends the order to a nearby pharmacy, along with one for a stronger numbing spray for his throat.

“Let’s go for ice cream while we wait for your prescriptions,” Ms. Sakamoto says as they leave the doctor’s office.

“I don’t feel like ice cream,” Ryuji says.

She holds a hand up to his forehead. “Are you sicker than we thought? My Ryu-chan? Not wanting ice cream?”

Ryuji is startled into a chuckle despite himself. “I guess a little ice cream would be okay,” he says.

They go for ice cream and pick up his prescription, and that night, for the first time since the day after he met Akira, Ryuji sleeps soundly.

“Ma, I’m going back to work,” he says the next day.

“Ryu-chan, please stay a little longer?” his mother asks.

Ryuji pulls her into a long hug and kisses the top of her head. “I know, but Ann ‘n Shiho ‘n Yusuke ‘n Chihaya are gonna worry.”

She sighs. “I’ll come see you next weekend, okay?”

“I’ll count on it,” Ryuji says, hugging her just a bit tighter.

The train ride back to his apartment is quick. He just throws his backpack on the floor before heading out to work. He arrives a few hours late, but he hadn’t told anyone he was coming in, anyway.

“Ryuji!” Chihaya rushes up to hug him when he opens the door. “It’s so good to see you again!” She holds him out at arm’s length. “You look better,” she says. “Tired, but better.”

“I feel better,” he says. “Not great, but not as bad as I was.”

“Did the doctor say what it was?”

“Bronchitis,” Ryuji says. “It was pretty bad for a bit there, but now it’s gonna be chronic.” He internally congratulates himself on a nice, smooth lie.

“Ryuji!” Ann says, bursting into the waiting room. “Welcome back!” She rushes into his arms and he picks her up and swings her around. “Shiho,” Ann calls, “Ryuji’s back!”

A minute later, Shiho appears from one of the tattooing rooms, pulling off her gloves. “I was due for a break anyway,” she explains as she runs into Ryuji’s arms.

“You all shouldn’t be so huggy; you’re gonna get sick!” Ryuji protests.

“Your mom texted me,” Ann said. “She says you’re not contagious anymore and that we need to make sure you don’t push yourself too hard.”

Ryuji sighs. “There goes my ma again, getting all up in my business.”

“And you’ll thank her for it when you hear that I’m cooking tonight,” Ann says in a sing-song voice.

Ryuji smiles behind the mask. “I guess I will.”

“Now, what are you doing here? We could have taken care of the shop for a few more days,” Ann says.

“I’m gonna be sick for a while,” Ryuji says. “Chronic bronchitis. If I were gonna wait till I was better there’d be no shop to come back to. Besides, I can’t miss my girls?”

“Ah, so no love for me, I see,” Yusuke says, stepping out of the studio.

“Yusuke!” Ryuji says. Ryuji reaches out to pull him into a hug.

Yusuke pats him awkwardly on the back. “It’s good to see you,” he says. “I hope you’re doing well.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Ryuji says, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“I have told you a million times not to--” Yusuke begins, but he’s smiling.

“C’mon,” Ryuji says. “I’ve been gone. I get one free one.”

The day passes slowly. Ryuji picks up a couple of walk-ins and helps one of them pick flash and whips up a custom design for another. He also works on designs for a few other customers who’d emailed him while he was sick. He doesn’t think he’s ready to tattoo again, and also is pretty sure that the others would stop him if he so much as thinks about it.

He is struck with a coughing fit at the end of the day, when he’s thankfully alone, choking out red and white petals but no full flowers. The medication seems to be working. He bundles up the petals in tissues and throws them away unceremoniously.

He’s drawing, perhaps a bit later than strictly necessary, when Shiho slams open the door to the studio.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

Shiho holds out the trash can she was emptying, and Ryuji’s heart sinks when he sees a few petals that escaped the tissue.

Shiho looks him full in the face, unflinching. Ryuji can see tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She frowns at him. “You don’t have bronchitis,” she says.

“I can explain, I promise,” Ryuji says. “They’re from--”

Shiho doesn’t let him finish. “You have hanahaki.” ****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The process of coughing up flowers is described in detail. Ryuji coughs up roses, which damage his mouth and windpipe with the thorns. Hanahaki can be fatal, and said fact is discussed frankly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for emetophobia and injury. More details in the end notes!

“I don’t know what you did to him, but stay away from Ryuji!” Ann shouts, filling the store with her anger.

“To Ryuji? I didn’t—!” Akira says, clearing his throat to avoid a cough.

“You didn’t, my ass. You broke his heart!”

“ _I_ broke _his_?” Akira asks, raising his own voice. “He’s the one who cancelled on me! He said he was sick!”

Suddenly Makoto is there. She stands in front of Akira and frowns at Ann as Haru and Mishima file into the room.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says. “Or I’ll have to call the police.”

“I’m not going anywhere until that guy pays for what he did to Ryuji!”

Makoto moves up into Ann’s personal space, herding her towards the door. Akira doesn’t wait to see her leave.

He rushes to the back office they never use, leaving the others out front where they hopefully wouldn’t hear just how bad his coughing will be. And he coughs, leaning on the desk before sliding down to hands and knees as his whole body shakes, leaving a trail of daisies and yellow petals. Big, hacking coughs lead to gagging as he feels something _big_ trying to escape, scratching his throat as he tries to get it out until finally an entire sunflower, almost as big as his hand, rests on the floor in front of him.

Shocked, he sits down on the floor, the backs of his hands to his mouth as he forgets the tickling still in his lungs. The moment is broken by Morgana, who jumps down off the desk where he’d been napping. The cat rubs against Akira’s knee before gently taking the sunflower in his teeth and bounding off.

“Morg--!” Akira’s yell is cut off by more coughing, white and yellow petals falling from his mouth as he stands and attempts to follow, panic in his gut.

“What’ve you got there, Mona-chan?” he hears Haru ask sweetly.

“What is that?” Makoto asks. “Where did you get that?”

“I thought we wouldn’t have sunflowers for another month, at least?” Akira hears Mishima say slowly as he rounds the corner, realizing too late that he’s going to be giving himself up.

“Akira!” Makoto shouts, coming to support him as he stumbles into the room. He’s got his hand to his mouth again, but there’s no hiding the daisies that tumble from his mouth as he leans away from her and gags again, another sunflower working its way free.

They all stare at him, wide-eyed. Akira shakes, trying to breathe around the flower blocking his airways. Makoto is frozen as he clings to her.

“Akira,” she finally says. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Her voice breaks the tension of the moment as Haru and Mishima move in closer, concern and fear plain on their faces. All he can do is let out a strained noise. He loses his grip on Makoto as he finds himself on the floor again. She follows him down, hands hovering as she struggles to figure out what to do. A final hacking cough finally frees a second large sunflower and Akira gasps in air, reaching out to bury his face into Makoto’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “It was just daisies. I didn’t think—it was fine, I was handling it.”

She shushes him and rubs his back. Mishima walks off as Haru kneels down as well, taking one of his hands in hers and rubbing circles into it. Mishima comes back and Akira leans back enough to take the offered paper cup of water.

They all snap attention to the sound of a gasp.

Ann had walked back in during the commotion and looks on with her hands over her mouth.

Akira leans heavily into Makoto. “Yeah. _I_ broke _his_ heart,” he grates out, not meeting her eyes. 

#####

“You have hanahaki,” Shiho says.

Ryuji claps a hand over his mouth as if it will undo his secret getting out.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he says, but he can’t bring himself to feel true alarm. Everything seems dulled, but he still feels a stab in the gut when Shiho starts to cry.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she says between sobs.

“Because I didn’t want this to happen! I didn’t want you to cry!” Ryuji puts a hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m going to cry no matter what, Ryuji,” Shiho says. “I’m just trying to decide whether to hug you or shake you. You could have told us! We could have helped!”

“But it would have broken your heart!” Ryuji protests.

“And it didn’t like this?” Shiho asks, brushing away tears. “It’s Akira, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji says, stifling a cough.

“What happened? You two were doing so well!” Shiho says. “I mean, there was the whole misunderstanding with his friend, but--”

“His ‘friend’ went on a dinner date with him when he told _me_ he was busy with his family,” Ryuji says between coughs.

“Oh, hon…” Shiho says. Apparently she’s decided between hugging and shaking Ryuji, as she pulls him into a hug. Petals fall from his mouth onto her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch, just holds him. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“That doesn’t make it go away,” Ryuji says quietly.

“I know, but won’t avoiding him make it better?” She thinks for a moment. “We could move. There’s always that. Our client base will travel for us; you know we’re not particularly convenient to half of them already. Maybe set up someplace near a university, with plenty of young reckless kids ready to make bad ink decisions.”

“I don’t wanna move,” Ryuji says, and he wants to cry but he can’t. “I want ‘Kira.”

“Ann’ll kick his butt for you,” Shiho says. “I may have already texted her about it.”

“It was supposed to be a secret,” Ryuji says, just as Ann rushes in the door.

“Who am I fighting?” Ann asks. ”Akira?” She hurries over to Shiho and Ryuji, still holding each other, and wraps her arms around both of them.

“Akira,” Shiho says. “He doubletimed Ryuji.”

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” Ann says. “See if I don’t!”

Ryuji begins to dry heave. He shakes through it, Ann rubbing his back and Shiho holding him up.

“You two’re the best,” Ryuji says hoarsely when the heaving stops.

“I know we are,” Ann says with a smile. She ruffles Ryuji’s hair. “We’re going to get you through this. Yusuke’s already looking for alternate locations we could move to.”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t know I have hanahaki?” Ryuji half-shouts.

“Chihaya,” Shiho says.

Ryuji sucks in air through his teeth. “Yeah. We can’t tell her.”

Ann shakes her head. “Not until we’ve tried everything.”

The moment is interrupted by Yusuke bursting in through the door.

“I came as soon as I heard,” he says. “Ryuji, are you all right?”

He shrugs. “I mean, I’m dying,” he says. “I’m on the strongest flower suppressants they can give you without puttin’ you in the hospital because I was coughing up roses. And thorns.”

“Are they helping?” Yusuke asks.

“I mean, I think so? I can’t feel much of anything, like, emotionally, but I haven’t ripped up my windpipe anymore.” Ryuji shrugs from his spot between Ann and Shiho.

Yusuke stands there awkwardly, not ready to join the group hug but not feeling comfortable being the only one outside of it, until Ann grabs his arm and pulls him in.

“C’mere,” she says. “We’re hugging Ryuji until he feels better.”

“Pretty sure a good half of this is about you guys feeling better,” Ryuji says. “I can’t feel too scared anymore. It’s kind of nice, ‘till I try to feel happy and then...it’s all gone. Not that I was feeling much happy before.”

“We all need hugs,” Shiho says. “Especially Ryuji, who is going to feel happiness again if it’s the last thing I do.”

“What happened?” Yusuke asks. “Everything seemed fine when you introduced him to me.”

“So you know how he gave me a bouquet?” Ryuji asks.

“Yes,” Yusuke says.

“Yeah,” Ann says.

“Mmhmm,” Shiho says.

“So the next day, when I went to get it, I saw him huggin’ another guy ‘n giving him an even bigger bouquet. They seemed to be close. But then I told Shiho, and she said that he coulda just been a friend who bought flowers, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, right?” Ryuji takes a deep breath and coughs up a few rose petals. “Fuck. I gotta be quick or I’ll get bad again. So then he texts to book a tattoo session, right? And I’m all excited about it. He says not that day because he’s got dinner with his family. Except then? I see that same dude coming into the shop after closing. So clearly he jilted me to hang out with him.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ann says. “I cannot believe!” She steps back and straightens up to her full height. “I’m gonna go tell him off.”

Ryuji winces, doubled over coughing, hacking up lotus after lotus. “Just tell him to stay away,” he says. “I can’t handle any more hope.”

Ann presses a quick kiss to his hair. “I’ll tell him,” she says quietly, before returning to her full rage. She storms out of the shop, letting the door slam shut behind her.

#####

Ann deflates, all her fire doused. Akira eyes her warily.

“But-but why are you cheating on him? If you love him?” she asks.

Akira’s face scrunches. “I’m...not? Who told you I was? I’m not seeing anyone else.” He stifles a cough as much as possible, some white petals escaping. Makoto holds him tighter but he sits up a bit to regain a little dignity. Mishima sits next to him, a hand on his knee, with Haru on his other side, still holding his hand.

“He said you gave a guy a bouquet! And you blew him off with a family dinner but he saw you with that other guy!” She sounds confused, all the self-righteousness drained out of her voice.

“I give a lot of people bouquets? It’s my job,” he says flatly. “I _did_ have dinner with my family that night. I have actual proof, too, there are selfies with my sister. I can show you if you really want—oh.” He slumps back into Makoto’s lap. “Akechi.”

“A-what-i?” Ann says.

“I have a recurring customer that Ryuji has seen me give arrangements to, who I met that night _before_ dinner. We have a working relationship, that’s all. He runs a funeral home nearby and we have a business agreement.” Akira sighs. “He could’ve just asked.” He coughs again, weakly. Makoto strokes through his hair. Mishima goes to get him some more water, and they all wait for Ann’s next move.

“You have hanahaki....over Ryuji,” Ann says slowly. She’s taking in the information slowly, like she’s been overloaded. “You aren’t cheating on him.”

Akira shakes his head. “I could never. I really like him, Ann. I’d never hurt him on purpose.”

“But he has hanahaki over you!” Ann says. “You’re telling me this was all a giant misunderstanding?”

“A nearly lethal misunderstanding,” Akira says. “But yes, that’s what it sounds like.” He takes a moment to process. “Ryuji has hanahaki?”

Ann nods. “He’s got it bad, too. Roses.”

Akira winces, imagining a tangle of thorns making its way up his throat. “I’ve got to tell him. If it’s just a misunderstanding it’s fine, it’s fixable, we can clear this up and neither of us has to die.” He attempts to stand, but another round of coughing stalls him, daisy after daisy falling to the floor. Makoto steadies him as much as she can, keeping him from falling back down. Ann rushes forward as well, slinging one of his arms over her shoulders, looking determined.

“We’ll fix this,” she says firmly. He’s trying hard not to cough on her as another flower works its way free. The petals track their path to the door, where they pause again to let Akira clear his airways, hacking and coughing, moving again once the sunflower plops to the floor. **  
**

##### **  
**

The door opens quickly, in one decisive move, jangling loudly. Ryuji doesn’t look up from where he, Yusuke, and Shiho are discussing potential new storefronts, assuming it’s just Ann coming back in.

“How’d it go?” he says, voice strained, lotuses littering the floor beneath him.

“Ryuji!” Akira says.

Ryuji’s head shoots up. He glares at Ann, at Makoto, at Akira between them. “How dare you bring him here?” he hisses. He starts to choke, feeling thorns migrate up his windpipe. “Fuck,” he chokes out, falling to the floor in pain. Shiho and Yusuke rush over to his side. 

“Ann, what did you do?” Shiho snaps as roses pour out of Ryuji’s open mouth. He heaves, blood dripping as he coughs and coughs and coughs.

Akira steps away from Ann to crouch, worried, over Ryuji, not sure if his touch would be welcome.

“It was all a misunderstanding!” Ann says. “It was just an associate!”

“You gave him flowers… You hugged him…” Ryuji chokes out between roses, voice raw. “I don’t understand.”

Akira stifles his own coughs. “Akechi is just an old friend from college. We’re business partners. That’s it.” He presses a hand to his mouth, breathes slowly. It doesn’t work, and he starts coughing himself.

Ryuji looks up at him, blood dripping from his mouth, wonder in his eyes.

“I like _you_ , Ryuji,” Akira chokes out, gagging around another sunflower. “If you don’t want—!”

Ryuji surges up to crash their lips together, fingers tangling in Akira’s hair. Akira, shocked, doesn’t respond for a couple seconds, but promptly ends up wrapping his arms around Ryuji.

Ryuji leans his forehead against Akira’s. “I like you too,” he says. “Sorry for bein’ a dumbass about it.”

Akira chuckles, airway clear, chest looser than it has been in days, and kisses him again.

The room is startled by the door to the tattoo parlor bursting open, Mishima and Haru standing in the doorway. Akira smiles at them from his spot on the floor. Mishima visibly relaxes and Haru clasps her hands together, smiling.

“So you got it all figured out?” Haru asks.

Ryuji nuzzles into Akira’s neck, uncaring of the audience. He’s tired, and weak, and all he wants to do is be held.

Akira smiles. “We did.”

“I can’t believe you almost died over a misunderstanding,” Ann says. “You absolute dumbass.”

“I know,” Ryuji says from where he’s nestled against Akira. “I really fucked it up.”

“We figured it out,” Akira says, looking down at him softly.

“I dunno about you, but I could use a smaller peanut gallery,” Ryuji says. “You guys wanna go get some work done, or what?”

“So long as you’re okay,” Shiho says, Ann and Yusuke agreeing with her. Akira waves off Makoto, who drags Haru and Mishima back outside, presumably to return to the shop so it wasn’t empty any longer.

After everyone has gone back to their respective jobs, the door opens. Ryuji looks up in surprise, wondering if one of Akira’s employees had forgotten something.

Chihaya walks in from lunch to find Ryuji and Akira entangled on the floor. She looks at them with wide eyes.

“Ryuji? Why are you on the ground?” she asks. “And why are there flowers everywhere. And--oh my gosh, are you bleeding?”

“It’s a long story,” Ryuji says. “My boyfriend and I will have to tell you sometime.”

Akira beams.

#####

“I can’t believe you tried to tattoo a packer,” Akira says, cackling as he holds open the door to the cafe. The aroma of coffee and curry wafts over them.

“Ripped it up real good, too. Turns out it doesn’t work like practice skin,” Ryuji says, blushing at Akira’s gesture. He still can’t believe that this is something he gets to have, and Akira is so _good._ Akira, meanwhile, is thankful that so far, this seems like something he gets to keep.

Ann rolls her eyes from her spot behind Shiho, both of them smiling. “Shiho told you it wouldn’t work,” she says, falsely exasperated.

“I had to try!” Ryuji protests.

They’re interrupted by a gruff voice. “Are you bringing more riffraff into my shop, kid?” The older man behind the counter asks. Akira beams and leads the group to the seats at the bar.

“You bet!” he says. The man eyes them all appraisingly, setting down the mug he’s holding. “Ryuji, Ann, Shiho, this is Sojiro. Better than any parent I’ve ever had,” Akira continues. “Sojiro, this is Ryuji, my boyfriend, and Ann and Shiho, girlfriends. They work with Ryuji.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” Ryuji says, sticking out his hand for a handshake. “Akira’s said a lot about you.”

“I bet he has,” Sojiro says, aiming a fond look at Akira as he grasps Ryuji’s hand. “None of that ‘sir’ business, though.”

“Yes sir--I mean! Sorry!” Ryuji stammers. He ducks his head. Akira and Sojiro both chuckle, Ann and Shiho snickering off to Ryuji’s left.

Sojiro turns to the girls. “I’m always glad to meet some of this guy’s friends,” he says, jerking a thumb back in Akira’s direction. “When he brings people by, it means he’s got more people around him.” He clears his throat. “Make sure you all take care of him, you hear?”

Akira groans, head in his hands. “Can you not give this speech to everyone I bring here?”

“After looking after you during your high school years? Not a chance, you little delinquent.” Sojiro is grinning, and Akira is too, once he picks his head back up.

“Thanks, old man.”

Ryuji grins. “Glad to see ‘Kira’s got someone like you lookin’ after him.” Akira blushes, staring resolutely at the jars of coffee beans on the back wall. Sojiro raises an eyebrow at him, which he ignores.

“Wait, ‘delinquent?’” Ann asks.

Akira groans again. “It’s...a long story.”

“But you didn’t deny it!” Shiho says, delighted.

“It’s a technicality! We got the charges dropped!” Akira protests.

“Charges?” Ryuji asks. “You tellin’ me you’re secretly a badass?”

“Oh, hardly,” Akira says. He sighs. “I was like, fifteen? Sixteen? The guy was drunk and the assault charge was garbage.”

“You were charged with _assault?_ ” Ann yells, eyes wide.

Akira sighs again, louder and more drawn out. “Thanks a lot, old man,” he says.

Sojiro shrugs. “Were you guys going to order anything?”

“Nope! Ryuji and I are leaving!” Akira says, turning to slip from his stool. “You better not gossip with Ann and Shiho once we’re gone.”

“Oh, we’re _definitely_ going to be gossiping,” Shiho says. Ryuji snorts. Sojiro swats at Akira half-heartedly with the towel he’s holding, eyes shining.

“Go on, get out of here. Leave us to our talk. Be safe. Make sure you take care of him, young man!”

Ryuji beams at him. “He’s in good hands, I swear.” Akira takes his hand and pulls him from the shop.

It’s a short train ride from Leblanc to Ryuji’s mother’s apartment. Akira’s jittery and nervous as Ryuji pulls him into the apartment complex.

“You’re gonna love my ma,” Ryuji says. He raises a hand to knock on the door.

His mother answers it almost immediately.

“Ryu-chan! And--oh, you must be Akira! It’s so lovely to meet you!” She grins, and it’s a mirror of Ryuji’s matching smile. Akira can’t help but return it. She gathers up Ryuji into her arms, hugging him long and tight, and next holds out her arms to Akira. Akira hesitates for a moment, looking to Ryuji, who smiles at him and nods towards his mother.

“She don’t bite,” Ryuji says softly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ms. Sakamoto says. “We’re just a family of huggers.”

Akira smiles a little. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m just not used to it.” He does step forward, though, and she wraps her arms around him happily. Akira leans into it, feeling warm, thinking that maybe this is where Ryuji got all of his warmth from.

He steps back, head down, a lock of hair twisting between his fingers. “I’m, ah, I’m sorry for all the misunderstanding before.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ms. Sakamoto says.

“It was all me bein’ an idiot that made you suffer through hanahaki too,” Ryuji says.

“Ryu-chan! Don’t talk about yourself like that!” Ms. Sakamoto frowns at him. “You know it was just a series of misunderstandings.”

“Still,” Ryuji says, “I coulda just talked to him.”

Ryuji’s mother lays a hand on his shoulder. “You were hurting, baby. It’s nobody’s fault.” She turns to Akira. “Not yours either, you hear me?”

Akira nods, wide-eyed.

“Now, come on in! I made Ryu-chan’s favorite ramen.” She waves them into the living room and disappears into the kitchen.

Ryuji looks at Akira, stars in his eyes. “Isn’t she great! I think she really likes you!” He takes Akira’s hand and squeezes it.

Akira nods, a little choked up. “Yeah, she’s pretty great.” He squeezes back, pulling Ryuji in for a quick kiss before letting him lead him further into his mother’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has detailed descriptions of coughing up flowers, large flowers this time which involve some gagging. Ryuji also coughs up roses again, and there's some description of the thorns hurting his throat and mouth. Light blood mentions.


End file.
